


Another 6 Months

by Noelle12



Series: 6 Months [2]
Category: Hollyoaks
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-28
Updated: 2014-10-06
Packaged: 2018-02-10 17:41:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 13,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2034123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noelle12/pseuds/Noelle12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Follow up to 6 Months and completely AU. Set in the US in a lovely suburb outside New York City.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**John Paul**

I walk into the breakroom to see Craig barely restraining himself. His fists are clenched and his face is red with rage. I survey the scene before taking action when Thorpe’s eyes connect with mine. His face is a grotesque mask sneering at me with disgust and contempt. 

I swallow the lump in my throat that threatens to choke me. “What’s going on here?” I ask in a hoarse voice. 

“There’s lover boy now, eh Craigy?” Thorpe leers at me. “You disgust me.” He spits at me. He circles around the table and Craig throws me a distraught look. “Cocksuckers!” He practically screams in my face as he edges closer and closer. 

“Fuck you!” I shout at him, but that just makes him laugh. 

“You wish.” He responds then pushes past me out the door after giving me a scathing look. 

Craig falls heavily into a chair. The red barely restrained rage has drained him and he has turned an ashen color. “Are you okay?” I ask rushing over to him.

“Don’t touch me.” He hisses under his breath.

“Wh-what?” 

“Please, don’t make this any worse.” He pleads turning his eyes to mine. I just nod my response and back away.

“Coffee?” I ask feeling hurt and foolish and powerless.

“Yeah.” He agrees waving a hand weakly.

I busy myself fixing two coffees trying to come up with something coherent to say. Thorpe had been out on psychological leave due to his killing someone in the line of duty. So this is the first we had seen of him since that fateful night. 

I set down the coffee mug in front of Craig and make sure to sit across the table from him.

“We’re screwed.” He whispers to me.

“What happened?” I ask him concerned with the pain I see etched in his face.

“Thorpe came in and said all this stuff about us… you know… being together.” He quickly explains. “He used these words…” He stammers, shaking his head back and forth to erase his mind. “… words no one should ever have to hear.” 

I want to touch him. I want to console and reassure him. I sit on my hands to keep them away from him. He doesn’t want that. I can tell by the way he sits withdrawn inside himself leaning forward over the hot mug.

“John Paul.” He says in a pleading tone. “He knows about us and he is a complete psychotic homophobe. What the fuck do we do now?”

“I… I don’t know. What’s the worst that can happen?” I ask.

“He could tell everyone and we get treated like social pariahs.” He says sighing.

“Okay, there’s that.” I say a little too flippantly. 

“It’s not funny, John Paul, this could ruin us. The others won’t want to work with us. We’d be in danger from no one having our back out there.” Craig’s voice rises in pitch and volume. 

“So what do you want to do?” I ask in a low tone. Being hysterical is definitely not going to help us. 

“What else can we do? We deny it.” He says like it’s the most logical thing in the world. But I can tell by his resolute tone that it’s completely broken him inside. 

I sit there stunned for a minute. I can’t help but agree. We can pull this off. I’m set for reassignment as my probation period officially ends this weekend. Once we’re separated for our shifts maybe it’ll be easier to seem less conspicuous. 

“Fine.” I respond staring into his eyes searching for a sign.

“Then we’re agreed?” He eagerly confirms.

“Agreed.” I say breaking my heart.


	2. Chapter 2

**John Paul**

I sit down for a moment on the stripped bare bed to survey the half packed boxes that are currently littering my bedroom. Thankfully there’s not a lot of stuff to move. It’s kind of a sad testament to my life. The apartment came fully furnished, even the coffee mugs belong to the landlord. 

It’s really just a matter of packing up some clothes and photos and the electronics. Everything else is rented. 

“Hey.” Comes a voice from the doorway. I look over to see Craig dressed down in just jeans and a tee shirt. “You almost ready to do this?” He asks with a twinge of trepidation in his voice. 

“Yeah. Just give me a moment.” I respond sighing. 

He nods in understanding then comes to sit behind me on the bed wrapping his arms and legs around me. 

“It’s going to be all right.” He whispers in my ear soothingly. 

“I know.” I nod. “It’s going to be mental.” I say turning my face towards his and finally cracking a smile. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.” 

“It’s gonna be great.” He responds squeezing me tighter.

We pull apart when we hear voices in the living room. 

“Hey.” Someone calls out.

“We’re in here.” I call out.

Spike and Ben appear in the bedroom doorway.

“You guys ready?” Spike asks looking at the half empty boxes with concern. 

“As ready as we’re gonna get.” Craig quips hopping off the bed and reaching out a hand to help me up. 

“Let me just finish up these boxes if you guys want to start emptying the living room.” I suggest.

“Let’s go.” Spike says slapping Ben on the ass on their way out. 

Craig turns his eyes to me and gives me a quick wink before following Ben and Spike out to move the boxes. 

I finally manage to get everything packed away while the others move the boxes out to Spike’s van. Taking a quick last look around to double check that I’ve got everything and to say good bye to the first place I ever lived in on my own, I head down the stairs and off on a new adventure. 

Spike and Ben hop into the van while Craig and I follow behind in our cars. Finally, we pull up in front of the two family house that is to become my new home. Well, new to me. Craig has been living here for a few years already. 

I take a moment to get out of the car. I want to savor each moment and ingrain it in my memory. My life has been full of change recently. I got my new assignment at work riding in 405 while Craig is still riding in 408. We’re currently on the same shift working days for the next few weeks while still trying to keep a low profile at work. And now I’m moving in with Craig, which is a big step for a guy who hasn’t had a relationship last past a month before. Like I said, big changes. 

“Hey slacker.” I hear Spike call through my reverie, “How about helping out a bit?” He jokes.

“Hey, I thought that’s what I had you lackeys for.” I tease back stepping out of the car and heading over. 

Spike slaps a box into my hands. “Here you go, lover boy.” He kids, but the phrase lover boy brings me right back to Thorpe’s tirade in the breakroom. I take a deep breath to keep it under control. Work hasn’t been too bad, a few jibes from Thorpe here and there, but nothing overt or over the top so far. 

Spike hefts a large box labeled ‘bedroom’ and walks up the steps then pauses on the front porch. He shouts over to me, “Hey, McQueen, this box is heavy. What you got in here? Your sex toys?” Then he laughs at his own joke. 

He turns to enter the house to find Mrs. Harper standing behind him with a thunderous look on her face, but a twinkle in her eye, which wipes the shit eating grin off of Spike’s face as he stutters and stammers an apology to her. She just pats him on the shoulder and accepts the stammered apology. At least that should keep Spike’s comments to a minimum this afternoon. 

We all get to work and pitch in. There really isn’t too much to move, as I noted before. 

Mrs. Harper has stuck her head out the door numerous times over the course of our work to remind us not to nick up the banister or damage the woodwork. Craig manages to soothe and coddle her each time slapping the flattery and compliments on her over and over. And she eats it up blushing and giggling like a young girl. He really is that good. 

Between the four of us, we get the van unloaded in record time then order in some pizzas. We crack open the beer while waiting for it to arrive. 

Spike proposes a toast to our new domestic arrangement to a chorus of “Here, heres.” From the rest of us. We drink to our friendship and we drink to our future. We eat pizza and play video games like the mature young men that we are. Craig and I make a formidable team against Spike and Ben when it comes to the games and sooner rather than later, the night slips away from us. 

Spike and Ben bid us good night as we thank them again for all their help. 

Closing the door soundly behind him and giving the lock a final turn, Craig turns to me with a predatory glint in his eye and I know it’s time to be ravished thoroughly by my boyfriend.


	3. Chapter 3

**Craig**

I study John Paul as he pulls on his uniform. He carefully straps on his vest, slides into his shirt tucking it in and fastening the cuffs. He is like poetry in motion when he moves especially because he’s so fussy about how he looks. I find it to be quite an endearing quality. You’d think after a month of waking up together, I’d stop lusting over him every day, but I don’t. He’s too incredibly sexy to stop ogling. 

“You just going to stare?” He asks catching my eye in the mirror. “Or do you plan on getting dressed for work?” 

“Fine.” I grumble as I rise to my feet. John Paul has destroyed the daydream I’m having of bending him over the bed and having my wicked way with him. 

I drop my towel and begin the arduous task of getting into my uniform as John Paul grabs his service pistol and slides it into the holster attached to his belt. He gives me a quick kiss. “See ya at the station.” He quips as he heads for the door. 

“You’re not even gonna wait!” I shout at his retreating back. 

“And be late for work? Nope.” He turns and grins, “But be a good boy and I just might swipe your card for you.” He says with a wink and disappears.

“Jerk.” I retort and hurriedly throw on the rest of my clothes. 

It’s been a month of living together and working together. And it’s been great. When we’re home it’s just the two of us and everything is perfect. At work, we’re just colleagues and while it’s difficult to keep up the pretense, it’s necessary for us.

I finally get to the station ready to fight crime. I feel like a comic book hero at times protecting the town and wearing a sexy uniform.

I get the keys to my car and check in with Hess for my assignment. John Paul is nowhere to be seen, but he did swipe me in for the shift, so I know he’s here. 

“Get your ass on the road, Dean.” Hess orders as I linger at the desk too long to see if John Paul will appear. 

“Whatever.” I respond rolling my eyes at him and heading out the door. 

**John Paul**

I get to work and swipe in and get met with a memo from Lieutenant Dydick who is requesting my presence in his office immediately. Dickhead. 

I appear in his office for some unspecified reason. I seat myself in a chair across from him that he indicates with a wave of his hand. I settle in trying not to slouch. 

Dydick clears his throat before he begins, “So, Officer McQueen, you’ve been doing quite well on your own this past month. We’ve been pleased with your work, so we’ve made the decision to switch you to another shift. We think your talents will be put to better use on the third shift where we have a need for a strong officer such as yourself.” He intones with a slight smile hidden under his thick graying mustache. 

You’d think I’d be flattered by his words. You’d think I’d be excited about being so highly thought of. But I’m not. All I can think is that Craig and I are going to be on separate shifts and what that means for our relationship. 

“And when are you making this change?” I ask trying not to betray my quivering insides. 

“Effective immediately. Go home and be back at 16 hundred hours for your shift. Congratulations, Officer McQueen. You’ll make a fine addition to the shift.” He praises me, shakes my hand and dismisses me all at the same time. 

I thank him brusquely trying not to reveal the fear that I’m feeling inside. 

I walk in a daze to swipe myself out for the shift and drift past the desk where Hess questions me.

“Why aren’t you out on the road, McQueen?” He demands.

“I no longer work on this shift.” I explain briefly before opening the door to the parking lot.

“Since when?” He asks anger and bewilderment in his voice.

“Since this morning.” I respond and walk out without a backward glance.

“Shit.” Is the last word I hear before the door closes behind me. 

I climb into my car intending to head home. I get about two blocks from the station when I get pulled over by the police. I glance at the rearview mirror and see the light bar lit up with its dancing colors. 

I lower the window as Craig walks up to the car. 

“Is there a problem, officer?” I ask teasingly as he approaches. 

“Where the hell are you going?” He asks angry. “I thought someone had stolen your car.” 

“I’m going home.” I respond sounding more forlorn than I intended to. 

“What?! Why?!” He asks incredulously.

“You’re a strong officer. Your talents are better suited for the third shift.” I answer mimicking Lieutenant Dydick. 

“That’s great!” Craig happily responds smiling. But then notes my dour expression. “Isn’t it?” He asks nervously.

“Is it?” I ask numbly. 

“It means they think a lot of you and noticed how great you are.” He continues smiling again, but a little unsure this time.

“Think about it.” I say.

“I don’t get it. Isn’t it good news?” Craig asks confused.

“What time do you get off today?” I ask him. 

“4:00.” Is the automatic response.

“What time do I get off today?” I ask waiting for the gears in his head to start moving.

“Oh.” He finally responds not looking as chipper as he had. 

“Yeah, oh. I’ll see you at midnight.” I answer completely miserable.

“And I have to be at work at 8:00 AM. I get it.” He says looking just as despondent.

“Not such great news now, is it?” I ask.

“We’ll work around it.” He replies. “We have to.” His voice taking on a new tone of determination.

“I know. I just wish we didn’t have to.” I say.

“408.” Hess’ voice comes over the radio.

“I have to go.” Craig says apologetically. “I’ll call you later.” 

“See ya.” I say raising the window.


	4. Chapter 4

**John Paul**

I’m bored, so bored. I go home, change out of my uniform and go out to run some errands. After stopping at the bank and the post office and the dry cleaners, stopping for a cup of coffee and some other things that needed taking care of, I realize I only burned an hour.

Fuck! 

Home again. 

Watching TV, surfing the internet, texting Craig every inane thought that pops into my head. So bored though. I guess growing up in a houseful of women, where someone is always around, did not do much to developing my ability to spend time on my own. 

Plus, as an added bonus, I have to get used to a new shift with only eight hours notice. I should try and get some sleep maybe that will kill some time.

**Craig**

‘Bzzzz’ my cell phone goes off for the 12th time in the last half hour. John Paul with another of his witty thoughts. I just roll my eyes and key back, ‘good one :)’.

Things are really busy and with John Paul off the road, it seems like there’s twice as much work as usual. Shift goes quickly and I’m dying to get home, but then I realize no one is going to be there.

Fuck!

Coming in off the road, I stop to drop off my keys when John Paul arrives for his shift. He nods a greeting in my direction. I give a half nod of acknowledgement back. 

Lieutenant Hogan is working the desk and handing out assignments. “McQueen,” he calls in his gruff voice. “408 is your new car. Welcome to the shift. Check the list for your assigned area.” He greets John Paul then dismisses him and turns back to the paperwork that still needs to be approved.

“Yes, sir.” John Paul responds and winks at me. He’s going to be driving my car. I’m a little giddy at the sudden rush of emotion that entails. It feels a little intimate, sharing a vehicle. 

I go to swipe out and head to our empty apartment. He was so right, this is going to suck. I try to stay up and wait for him to get home, but the weariness overtakes me and I am out cold before midnight.

**********************************

And so it goes. 

Like ships passing in the night we coexist in the same car and the same apartment for several weeks, but never there at the same time unless one of us is asleep. Even our days off don’t overlap at all. 

John Paul's constant texting seems to have dwindled to only a few over the course of a shift. Maybe he's adjusting to his new work hours. I do miss them though. 

I don’t know what’s causing the insomnia, but something has been causing me to wake in the middle of the night and to lie there listening to John Paul’s even breathing for what seems like forever until the alarm goes off. 

I take another sip from my glass of wine. I figure a little bit of alcohol might help me sleep tonight. That one sip turns into another glass and I find my eyelids fluttering closed. I don’t even bother to go to bed. I just sleep on the couch too warm and fuzzy-headed to move.

**John Paul**

I come home to find all the lights on, which is unusual. The TV is on and Craig is passed out on the couch with a half empty bottle of wine on the floor. What the fuck is going on? 

I nudge him to get him to bed, but he doesn’t even stir. So I just turn off the lights and head to bed myself dragging the laptop with me. One thing I’ve discovered over the past few weeks is the internet is a vast landscape to satisfy all my cravings.

*********************

I don’t even hear Craig when he gets up for work in the morning. My eyes wearily drag open sometime in the mid morning and I can tell by the stillness that I’m alone… again.


	5. Chapter 5

**Craig**

The next couple of weeks are spent with recriminations and accusations as well as a bit more, but I try to block the other stuff out. 

“Dean!” Someone shouts before I even get the station’s door closed behind me. Christ! Tommy is standing at the dispatch desk with a thunderous expression on his face. He jerks his head in the direction of his office. “A word.” He demands.

I slowly shuffle towards him and follow him down the hall then he turns with a sudden jerk. 

“Sit.” He barks at me after I’ve closed the door behind me.

I can feel the headache starting behind my eyes as the hangover that’s been dogging me since I woke up on the couch this morning flares to life.

I sit down and wait for the torrent that’s about to take place.

“What the fuck is going on with you?” He asks between clenched teeth.

“I…” I begin.

“Save it!” He spits out. “I’ll tell you what the fuck your problem is! You’re drinking yourself right out of a job!” Tommy screams. I can feel my cheeks flame as the embarrassment flushes my face a very unattractive red and I stare at the hands that I’m twisting in my lap.

Tommy lets out a puff of air. “Craig.” He says almost kindly, which causes me to snap my eyes up to him. “What’s the problem?” 

“I… it’s under control.” I mutter as my hands shake uncontrollably and my head throbs.

“Craig, whatever it is, you know you can tell me.” He gently probes.

I go to open my mouth. I want to spill it all. I know I can’t. It wouldn’t do to tattle on a fellow officer. And I know I can’t trust Tommy with my relationship with John Paul. That’s just for us to share. I just shake my head slightly. “There’s nothing wrong.” 

“If it continues, I _will_ have to suspend you.” He cautions me. “Get the drinking under control or…” He rummages through a stack of cards in his desk drawer. “…go to a meeting. This is your only warning.” Tommy says as he hands me the AA card. 

**John Paul**

I go to throw some trash out and find Craig’s practically brand new uniform jacket stuffed in there with a few empty bottles. I think about it for a minute wondering why he would have thrown out a perfectly good jacket. 

Oh fuck, I think as I recall a conversation I heard the other night as I was going on shift. 

_I’m walking past the locker room to get to the time clock when I hear loud voices discussing a prank one of them pulled._

_“So we took the paint and wrote on his jacket.” One voice explains._

_“The paint that can only be seen under the black light?” The second voice clarifies._

_“Yeah, which is what made it so funny because he couldn’t see it.” The first voice responds almost chuckling malevolently._

_“What did you write?”_

_“‘FAGGOT!’ In great glowing letters.” The first voice gleefully explains._

_“And then what happened?” The second voice prompts._

_“So he gets called out on a crime investigation and when they Luminol the room, his jacket lights up bright as day!” The first guy says bursting into laughter. I walked away to swipe in for my shift and never looked to see who it was._

Oh shit! I wish I had gone in to see who was talking.

**Craig**

It’s the same fight we’ve been having for the past month. I don’t know how he knows. I must just be really bad at hiding it. 

“Do you think I’m stupid, Craig?” John Paul yells eyes ablaze. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice?” 

I turn away, unable to look at him. I didn’t think he’d figure it out since he’s never here. 

“I…” I start to defend myself. 

“Shut it.” He cuts me off. Who am I kidding? I have no defense.

“Do you know how pathetic you seem?” He asks cutting me down.

I just stare at the floor beneath my feet slightly swaying. “I’m going to bed.” He huffs going into the bedroom and closing the door soundly behind him.

You see, today was my day off. And I planned on having a good night with John Paul when he got home from work. So I decided to have a drink to take the edge off and one led to two, which… well, you know, led to a whole bunch more. 

I sit down on the couch and put my head in my hands. I hear John Paul shuffling around slamming drawers, getting ready for bed…

…I don’t know if it’s the alcohol or courage that makes me go in there. The lights are off and he’s already in bed at this point. I slide in between the sheets. 

“I’m sorry.” I say to his back. John Paul sighs heavily in response and rolls onto his back.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asks pointedly turning his face to mine in the darkened room.

“I… I didn’t think it was a problem.” I respond.

“What they did to you… it makes me sick.” He responds with such venom in his voice. 

“Who?... What?...” I respond sounding baffled.

“You know. At work. What they did to your jacket.” He spits out.

“Oh…” I respond, my heart beating a million miles an hour. “How did you find out?” I ask timidly.

“The jacket in the trash underneath the empty wine bottles.” He retorts. 

“I… I didn’t think it was a big deal.” I answer quietly.

“What else have they been doing?” He asks gently.

“N-nothing.” My stammering voice betrays the lie.

“Bullshit. Bullies don’t just pull one prank and give up.” He states matter of factly.

“It doesn’t matter.” I respond.

“Yes it does, Craig. They’re not going to stop. You know that right? Who was it?” He keeps pressing for more.

“Thorpe is the only one as far as I know.” I respond squeezing my eyes shut.

**John Paul**

“I’m gonna kill him.” I say under my breath. He’s a sick, sad bastard picking on Craig. And Craig just takes it. Argh! 

“No! No, you’re not. This is my problem. I’ll deal with him.” He says alarmed.

“Because you’re doing such a great job.” I scoff at him.

“John, I will deal with him. Lay off.” He warns before suddenly turning over.

“Is that why you’re drinking so much?” I ask him gently.

“Hmmph.” Comes the response.

“I wish you’d let me help you.” I offer quietly. 

“You can’t. No one can.” He says defeated.

“Just talk to me.” I plead with him.

“I can’t talk to you. You’re never here.” He lightly complains.

“I’m sorry, but I’m here now.” I offer again. I wait as the silence stretches out longer and longer. “Good night, Craig.” I finally say breaking the silence.

“Good night.” He whispers.

I lie awake staring at the ceiling for what seems like forever before my aching mind finally shuts down and I sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

**John Paul**

I wake up feeling empty inside… again.

Dragging my sorry ass out of bed, I manage to get a cup of coffee before firing up the laptop and logging into one of my usual sites. I scroll through the videos between sips of coffee, dismissing the ones that I have no interest in or have already viewed. 

I finally find one that shows some promise and my cock stirs as soon as I click play. I watch the images play out across the screen. Two young men getting up close and personal with each other, caressing and kissing, tongues entwined. My cock suddenly springs to life straining against my boxers. I quickly wiggle out of them as the onscreen ‘actors’ drop their drawers too. 

The dark haired one has quite an impressive hard on. He’s brandishing it like a sword teasing the blonde one’s mouth. 

I pump out some hand lotion and set to work. The brunette gets the blonde down on all fours and I watch as he pummels his partner up the ass. I stroke my hard cock letting the moans from the onscreen action wash over me and spur me to pump harder. I grip with my right hand and stroke my balls with the left. The combined pleasure forces out my orgasm just as the actor cums ropy white strands across his lover’s back and I watch as my semen splatters on my chest.

I fall bonelessly into the cushions catching my breath. I click the video off and enjoy the after haze of the orgasm. I finish off my coffee and catch up on my email after wiping my cum off with the last of the tissues. 

Today is my day off and I find myself being drawn back to the laptop more times than I’d care to admit. It’s starting to fuck with my mind. 

I finally make a decision as I straighten up the apartment and finally think through the past couple of months. 

**Craig**

I trudge up the stairs not really wanting to go home. Things are so tense between John Paul and I that it’s difficult to make the final leg of the journey.

I open the door and he’s sitting on the couch waiting for me. I take off my jacket and toss my keys in the basket by the door. He doesn’t even turn to look at me. I huff as I walk to stand in front of him.

“I can’t do this anymore.” He states with finality not even meeting my eyes.

I gulp down a breath of air, “What do you mean?” 

“It’s not enough. This is just not enough.” John Paul further explains finally looking at me. 

“B-but…” I stutter.

“Let’s face it, Craig. We can’t let it go on this way. You’ve been drinking yourself into a stupor every night.” I stare at him gape mouthed even though we’ve had this conversation before. “I can smell it on you.” He explains, “and the empty bottles in the trash give you away.”

I’m hurt and I want to hurt him back. “So you’re gonna leave? Just like that?”

“I think it’s for the best. This isn’t working. I feel like a boarder in your house, a roommate. Not a lover.” He sounds defeated.

“Oh yeah.” I snort disdainfully. “What do you think you’re going to find out there, John Paul? A replacement for your hand?”

He gets to his feet and whirls on me dangerously. “What do you mean by that?” He snarls menacingly.

“I mean,” I start challenging him thrusting my chin up, “that I’ve seen the history on the laptop.”

His face blanches as he realizes he’s been caught out. “W-well, that was just a few times.” He quickly stammers to cover up.

“No… no, it’s not. How much of your salary are you wasting on those site subscriptions?” I accuse.

“And how much are you wasting on booze?” He throws back. 

We stand at an impasse, neither able to budge. I realize I’m tired, more like weary of this existence. John Paul’s chest heaves as he struggles to keep his breathing even. He breaks eye contact with me first, grabs the bag he packed before I got home and leaves before I even know what’s hit me. 

John Paul slams the door dramatically behind him and I crumple to the floor letting out a wail of grief I don’t think I’ve ever heard from myself before. 

**John Paul**

I race down the stairs and hear a loud cry from Craig before I even reach the bottom. I pause for a moment about to turn around, but then shake off the feeling to comfort him and rush quickly out the door. The last thing I see is Mrs. Harper‘s shocked face peering through the opening of her door. 

I even manage to make it to my car, slamming the door before the first tear leaves my eyes. But once it’s out a torrent follows and I sit there sobbing and screaming in the car. Who knew it would hurt this much? My chest feels like a burning pit as the shards of my heart shatter into finely ground bits of dust. 

I sit and cry for awhile losing all track of time. I finally calm down enough to get the key in the ignition, my hand shaking so bad that it takes all the concentration I have. That’s it, I have to focus on one thing at a time or I will never get through this. 

I back out of the driveway and drive the short distance to my mother’s house. Okay, I managed that. One thing at a time or my mind will explode. I grab my bag and head up to the front door. I walk in to find them all there even though Michaela is the only one still living with mom. My mother looks shocked to see me although she knew I was coming. Maybe it’s the state I’m in as she opens her arms and I fall sobbing onto her shoulder. 

My sisters sit with stunned expressions. Mom leads me to the couch where they shuffle around to make room for me. Michaela hops into the kitchen. Tina places a soothing hand over mine. Carmel hands me a box of tissues while Jacqui and Mercedes swear revenge, coming up with bizarre scenarios on how to get back at Craig Dean. My protests that it’s not his fault seem to fall on deaf ears.

I smile at how ludicrous it all seems. Jacqui comes up with more and more outlandish schemes. And I know I did the right thing coming here. My mother pulls me into a tight embrace as Michaela comes back with a cup of tea. 

I don’t know what’s being said. I’m just so grateful they are here to support me. 

**Craig**

I dissolve into a puddle of goo as the door slamming echoes around the apartment. I sink to the floor banging my fists trying to make it hurt as much as my heart does right now. The wailing and keening noises sound so foreign, but I know they’re coming from me. It’s getting hard to catch my breath as the hiccuping sobs render me close to hyperventilation.

Two frail yet strong hands cover my own holding them still. I blink twice at the sudden intrusion. I focus on the face looking on me kindly. Mrs. Harper shushes me and helps me up off the floor to the couch handing me a box of tissues. I think the shock of her in my apartment has confused me and makes the tears stop falling if only briefly.

I look around bewildered and listen to Mrs. Harper as she potters about in the kitchen. I steaming mug of tea is thrust into my hands making me focus on keeping my hands from trembling. I can do this. One thing at a time. Don’t spill hot tea on self. Got it.

Mrs. Harper sits next to me with her own cup. 

“Are you okay?” She asks first.

I respond by shaking my head, not trusting my voice to speak.

“What happened?” She asks next.

“He left.” I manage to squeak out on a whisper.

“Oh.” She responds affectionately patting my hand.

We sip our tea in silence. 

Mrs. Harper clears her throat. “You know, my late husband drank a lot too.” 

I swing my eyes up to meet hers. I can practically feel the guilt written across my face.


	7. Chapter 7

**John Paul**

I don't know how I manage. 

I guess not being able to be alone for longer than 30 minutes at a time is what's kept me going. I have one sister after another barging into my room, demanding my attention, taking me out to go shopping or shoplifting with them. I'm joking about that last part (I hope) since I am a cop.

And so it goes…

I catch glimpses of Craig over the last few weeks. You know, shoving past me during shift switch, throwing the car keys to me as he rushes out the door. 

After some serious soul searching, I admit I have a problem. 

When I find myself at a loose end, no work and no distracting family member, I head over to a meeting where I get to meet all kinds of people who suffer with the same problem I seem to have. I'm a sex addict. I’m not proud, but it’s who I am and I’m learning to deal with it. 

I have plenty of time to examine my life in between shifts and babysitting sisters. I start jogging again. It clears my mind and exhausts my body. 

I'm getting help. Meetings are offered a few times a week and I'm learning to control it. 

I cancel all my subscriptions. I ditch my computer and cancel my IP provider. I know I don’t have the willpower to withstand the temptations of the internet… yet.

I listen to story after story about how sex addiction ruins relationships and I realize my masturbation frequency has pulled me farther and farther away from Craig than just our work schedules ever could. And I miss him tremendously.

**Craig**

I don't know where it comes from… the strength to go on. 

Mrs. Harper relays her story. Her husband Harry, I know Harry Harper, no wonder he drank. Anyway, her husband was a good man, but he slipped down the alcohol slope and once he slipped, she couldn't save him until he hit rock bottom. Harry fought his way back. He slipped up every now and again with a drink or two, but never to the depths he had sunk to in his darkest days.

I take courage from his story. If Harry could do it, I could too. I head back to the Rec Center to work out on my off time. I seek out AA meetings to help me because losing John Paul has been my rock bottom. There is no way except up for me now. 

Mrs. Harper helps clean the liquor out of _my_ apartment, no longer ours. She says she’ll keep it safe and entertain her next Bridge Club with it.

I call Steph and tell her I need help. She’s the one I lean on now. She has a new level of maturity after losing her husband and gaining custody of her 10 year old brother in law. And I need that normalcy of family to help me in the dark times. Playing with Tom provides another distraction that keeps me clean and sober. 

Then there are the meetings. I’m anonymous here. I sit and listen for a few weeks trying to work up my courage to ‘share’. I find a sponsor, the person I call when life overwhelms me. These days that happens more often than not. Sometimes when I’m faced with an empty apartment, I call to fill the void. I find myself leaning more and more on my friends and family. Ben, Spike (I know Spike!), but his connection to John Paul makes me feel less lonely. Even Mrs. Harper has become a bigger fixture in my life and not just my landlady.

I find myself trudging to a meeting one night and run into the last person I ever expected to see in the church basement. John Paul is walking grimfaced down the hall heading to the last door. He stops dead in his tracks when he spots me. I can almost feel his eyes rake over me.

“Hi.” He shyly greets me.

“Hi.” I respond numbly, a hand coming up to rub my chest, trying to push down the rush of emotion that can be overwhelming at times. 

“Do you…” He starts, hand flying up to rub the back of his neck. A gesture that seems so familiar. “…would you like to get some coffee after?” John Paul asks timidly.

I sigh and watch as his hands suddenly fly up to his temples as if pushing the thoughts back down. “I don’t think I’m ready for that.” I respond gently. 

He ducks his head and slightly nods, his hands resting at his sides.

“John, we’re starting.” A man calls from down the corridor.

“I better…” He says crooking his thumb in the direction of the door as he turns. 

“John.” I call and he turns back expectantly towards me. “It was good to see you.” I say honestly.

“You too.” He responds smiling slightly. I watch him walk away and he enters the door, I notice the sign, ‘SAA’ it reads.

“Dean, we’re ready to start.” A woman comes out to tell me. It’s anonymous and so am I. I like going to meetings. I like that there are no expectations of me here. I’m not a cop or a brother, a son or a lover here. I’m just Dean, a guy who needs some support and some help. It took me a long time to accept that. 

**John Paul**

As soon as the question leaves my lips a sudden vision of Craig hovering over me, a bead of sweat running down his nose as he thrusts into me floods unbidden into my mind. I reach up to push the thoughts away. I am going to have to get myself under control. That’s what the meetings are for. Craig’s rejection comes as sweet relief because the vision confirms I’m not ready either. 

It was good to see him. He looks so much better than the last few times I’ve seen him. Relying on my family and friends to keep me distracted helps, but I need to get myself under control. I even look to Spike and Ben as role models of a healthy relationship. I know, Spike, the guy who never had a relationship last more than a few dates is now my role model. What has this world come to?


	8. Chapter 8

**John Paul**

The rhythmic pounding of my feet as they hit the pavement gives some order to my chaotic thoughts. The pounding of the bass line pumping through my earphones keeps the pace even and steady. The sun is starting to rise causing the frost covered grass to glitter and shine.

It’s cold and has been cold for awhile. The weeks between Thanksgiving and Christmas have taken me by surprise this year. Usually I feel excited for the holidays, but this year it’s just fear and dread. 

Decorating the Christmas tree with Michaela felt like a hollow chore. She tried everything to get a smile out of me, but all I felt was the emptiness of a broken heart. Is that what this feeling is, this melancholy that has overtaken me, loneliness? 

I circuit Cherry Hill Park as the sun rises. The playlist switches gears into a sluggish beat and I slow down to a walk, taking my time and cooling down until the music ends altogether. My sweat cooling rapidly makes me shiver in the cold of the early morning light. 

I see the car as it enters the lot. The black and white paint job is a stark contrast to the green and glittering silver of the park. I can see the mark on the left rear quarter panel where I scraped along a fence post one night. I jog over to the car as the driver’s window rolls down. 

“Hey.” I greet Craig as he peers at me.

“What are you doing?” He asks me. 

“Just out for a jog.” I answer looking him over.

“You better get home before you catch your death out here.” He says concern etching the words.

“Yes, officer.” I reply throwing a smile his way. God, I’ve missed him. 

He smiles back at me, but not shyly or nervously. He exudes a confidence that I haven’t seen in awhile and he almost makes me blush.

The radio crackles to life, “408.”

“I’ll see ya around.” He says before rolling up the window and I turn to trudge back to my car and head home. 

Robotically I take a shower and throw myself on the bed, despondent. A light knock on the door startles me out of my reverie. “Come in.” I quietly respond. 

Spike opens the door and sighs when he sees me. 

“John Paul, are you okay?” He asks with concern while sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Fine.” I huff hugging a pillow tight to my body and curling onto my side.

“You don’t look okay.” He probes shifting more comfortably onto my bed. 

“It’s just… it’s just the holidays and stuff.” I complain.

“Oh. Feeling the Christmas blues?” He asks running his fingers through my hair.

“Something like that.” I respond. 

“What is it?” He prods further still soothing and quiet.

“I was looking forward to Christmas this year, you know? Being with Craig, having someone to wake up with Christmas Day…” I whine.

“And?” He prompts. 

“And now it’s all gone. Sure, I’ve got my family, but it’s not the same is it?” I sound whiny, but don’t care.

“I guess not.” He placates.

“I miss him. Oh God, I miss him. I fucked it all up and walked away when he really needed me.” I lament.

“John Paul…” He starts the lecture.

“I know.” I agree.

“No, you don’t know.” He says suddenly.

“Huh?” Now it was my turn to look confused.

“Craig misses you too.” He confesses.

“He told you this?” I say sitting up alert.

“Yes. Ben and I saw him the other day… and he looks good. He’s really gotten his shit together. And he misses you too.” Spike further elaborates. 

“What else did he say?” I demand.

“Just that he misses you.” Spike evasively sidesteps. 

“Spike?” I plead.

“Okay… he said that if you hadn’t left, he might not have gotten the help that he needed.” He explains. 

“Slightly better, what else?” I demand.

“Nothing else.” He denies.

“Does he still love me? Does he still want me?” I ask rapid fire.

“You really need to ask him that.” Spike evades.

“I can’t.” I whine again.

“Put your big boy pants on, John Paul, and talk to him… He might surprise you.” He counsels.

“You think?” I ask.

“I know.” Spike responds and kisses my head.

 

**Craig**

At the end of my shift I head into the locker room, Thorpe follows me in and I turn on him quickly catching him off guard. My foot comes out and he trips over it slamming his face into the lockers. I’m on his back in a second shoving his face into the cold of the metal. One arm on the back of his neck pinning him to the lockers, my other hand has his arms in a grip behind his back. 

“Get off me, Dean.” Thorpe hisses.

“No.” I answer menacingly into his ear. 

“Dirty faggot.” He responds.

“I wouldn’t be calling me names in this position.” I say coldly.

“Ur-ugh.” He mutters as I put pressure on his neck.

“You are going to stop calling me names.” I order as I pull his hands back and push his neck forward.

A slight nod is all he can manage as he stops struggling.

“You are going to pay for my jacket.” I demand still pushing and pulling.

“Ungh.” He utters. 

“What was that?” I ask with a warning tone. “Was that ‘yes, Dean’?”

Another slight nod comes from him.

“I’m going to let you go now.” I inform him. “And you are going to leave me alone.” 

I release him and he stumbles slightly while taking great big gulps of air. The imprint of the locker vents stripe across his cheek and a large bruise is beginning to emerge high on his cheekbone. 

Thorpe glares at me, but I smile back at him knowing that he wouldn’t dare touch me now. 

I turn on my heel and exit the locker room intending to swipe out and get on with the rest of my day. 

 

**John Paul**

I check my mailbox after swiping in and see the bright red memo. Crap! Bright red can’t mean anything good. News alert, working overtime Saturday night for crowd control at the Christmas parade. Cripes! There go my plans to hang out with Spike. My Christmas avoidance technique is not going to get me out of this one. 

Oh wait, hang on, what’s this? I pull out a sealed envelope. Ripping it open, I find an invitation to the department Christmas party. There’s no way I can sidestep that one since the fates have conveniently planned it for my one night off. 

Gotta be a team player I remind myself over and over again while dreading all the fake good cheer I’m going to have to bring to the soiree.


	9. Chapter 9

**Craig**

 

I'm sweating... trying to get dressed for work... wearing too many layers of clothes. It's going to be cold outside and working outside in the cold December night is not doing much to elevate my mood. I was supposed to bring Steph and Tom to the parade and now I'm working it like the little lackey that I am. 

 

Finally deeming myself prepared, I rush from the house grabbing my hat and jacket on the way out. Fuck! It's cold out here. My car groans and bitches all the way to the station. It likes the cold just about as much as I do. I squeal into a parking spot, I hit the code on the station door at just the right time. Hess points me to the meeting room where the rest of the department is standing around waiting for their assignments. 

 

I eye up the other officers in the room, drinking in John Paul when I glance his way. He appears distracted checking out the ceiling. My eyes slip over to Thorpe who is still sporting a shiner on his eye and I can't help but let out a slight snort. 

 

Deputy Chief Palmieri steps forward, clears his throat and the room immediately falls silent. 

 

"Gentlemen... and lady." He greets us. "Tonight's special assignment is crowd control, traffic control and transport at the Christmas Parade." There is some major rolling of the eyes and smaller groaning heard throughout the assembled crowd. Like duh, what else would we be there for. 

 

"Anyway," Palmieri continues, "you will be partnered up by car number. You will stay with your partner and work as a team tonight. For example, those who drive car 405 on shift will be working together. 407 and so on." He further explains and I could tell by the look on some of the crew's faces that the further explanation was definitely needed. I turn to see John Paul looking thoughtfully at me and realize that I'll be with him for the rest of the night. 

 

"All right. Go find your partners and see Dydick for your beat assignment. Have fun and be safe out there." Palmieri dismisses us. The crowd murmurs as we shift around to find our partners and see Dydick who is seated at a table by the door. I'm sweating again under all the layers of clothing.

 

"Hey." John Paul greets me as he walks towards me.

 

"Hey." I respond slightly breathless. Why does he still have this effect on me?

 

"Car number?" Dydick asks as we approach the table.

 

"408." John Paul replies.

 

"You will be walking the parade route from Orchard to Linden." He quickly explains and hands us the bright yellow safety vests to make us more visible in the swiftly encroaching darkness. 

 

John Paul rolls his eyes then I thank Dydick and pull John Paul out of the room. 

 

We walk silently out to the van that's going to drop us off on the Boulevard. Hess drives about 10 of us to the parade and the van empties out slowly with each stop, until we finally get to the corner of Orchard. 

 

We struggle to walk in companionable silence. We manage to make one circuit of our beat without encountering any trouble and without speaking to each other. It's tense and awkward and yet oddly comforting to be spending time with John Paul again. God, I've missed him. All of him.

 

Back up by Orchard Street, we run into Spike, "Coffee." he states as a greeting handing us each a large cup. 

 

"Did you Irish mine up?" I ask. Spike and John Paul just stare at me. "Okay, too soon... I get it." I say and take a small sip of the hot liquid. John Paul quirks a smile up at the corner of his mouth and Spike shakes his head. 

 

"Thanks, Spike. I think we really needed this." John Paul says then takes a sip.

 

"So, boys, exciting night, huh?" Spike asks nervously shifting from foot to foot.

 

"Yeah... sorry I had to bail on you." John Paul apologizes.

 

"S'alright." He responds now stamping his feet to keep them warm.

 

"What are you doing here?" John Paul asks.

 

"Actually came out to support my boyfriend. He's riding on one of the big red trucks." Spike explains.

 

"Aw, look at you all domesticated." John Paul teases him.

 

Spike just grins in response. A commotion on the other side of the street catches our attention.

 

"We need to..." John Paul starts.

 

"Go." I finish.

 

Spike waves us off and we head across the street to break up a fight between our model citizens who are jockeying for position up against the barriers. It seems like it's going to be a long night considering the parade isn't supposed to start for another half an hour. 

 

After settling the argument, we walk in silence some more. I want to say something... anything to get us back to the way it was. 

 

"Craig... I..." John Paul starts.

 

"I was just..." We talk over each other. I catch his eye and we laugh.

 

"You go." He says.

 

"No, you go." I insist.

 

"I was just gonna say I've missed you." John Paul admits.

 

"Yeah... me too." I respond sadly.

 

"What happened to us?" He asks despondently.

 

"I don't know. We were good there for awhile though." I reply smiling sadly.

 

"Yeah, we were." He responds wistfully.

 

"Do you think we could, I don't know, hang out or something... sometime?" I ask a little too much hope written on my face.

 

"I don't see why not. We were friends once." John Paul sighs a puff of steam coming out of his mouth.

 

"What's the matter?" I ask cautiously. 

 

"Nothing." Comes the automatic response.

 

"Something's up." I insist.

 

"It's just Christmas. I usually love this time of year, but... it's just too much, you know, this year." He explains as we continue walking.

 

"Do you mean like there's too much to do and not enough time?" I ask trying to understand his melancholy.

 

"Not really. I don't really have that much to do." John Paul redirects.

 

"Are you bored?" I ask trying to get to the root of the matter.

 

"No, just monumentally depressed." He finally confesses as I stop to stare incredulously.

 

**John Paul**

 

I keep walking for a bit until I realize Craig is not with me. I turn around and he's stopped dead in his tracks. 

 

I walk back to him. "What's the matter?"

 

Craig shakes his head as if to clear it. "You-you're depressed?" He asks in a shrill voice.

 

"Shhh." I scan the crowd behind the barriers.

 

"What about me?" He asks accusingly.

 

"I don't know. You don't seem depressed... You seem better than ever." I explain.

 

"You broke me." He accuses.

 

"I... I know." I acknowledge. Swallowing past the lump in my throat. "I broke me too."

 

"You... you don't get to be depressed." He states emphatically.

 

"Okay. But what if I am? What if I made the worst mistake of my life and lived to regret it? And then... and then everything I've ever wanted was suddenly out of my grasp! And the person I was so in love with was drinking himself into a stupor every night because living with me was the worst thing that ever happened to him?" I practically scream. He lowers his eyes seemingly chastised.

 

"John..." I heard him start, but I turned away and started walking again. "John Paul." Craig says trying to gain my attention. I keep walking trying to keep my head up and eyes scanning the crowd. He grabs my arm to stop me once he catches up. "Is that what you think?" He asks eyes penetrating into my soul.

 

"What was I supposed to think?" I say blinking back the tears. 

 

"I..." He starts.

 

"I thought my being with you was making you worse and I was right because you're fine now." I whisper.

 

"I. Am. Not. Fine." He states with definite emphasis.

 

"When's the last time you had a drink?" I ask him.

 

"The day you left." He answers quietly.

 

"I rest my case." I say as I turn to walk again.

 

"It's not what you think, John Paul." Craig says walking next to me. "I haven't had a drink since then because I had finally hit rock bottom. There was no further for me to fall. Once you left, I had nothing and drinking was not going to pull me out of the hole."


	10. Chapter 10

**Craig**

 

I turn and walk away this time. It's too much. I can hear the beginning of the parade as the boom of a marching band thunders down the road. The sirens from the fire trucks start wailing and I just don't want to do this with him any more. I want to yell and scream and throw things at him for making me feel again. With a sudden stop, I realize that's what it is. He's making me feel again. 

 

I had been so numb for so long. Going to meetings, working and just taking it one day at a time had left me numb and empty. Being with John Paul was all about the passion and the fighting and the friendship. And the fucking. I sure do miss the fucking. 

 

I turn back around to see that he hasn't moved. He's just staring at me. 

 

"Oh my God." I say over the din of the approaching parade. 

 

He's still staring as if afraid to move. I quickly walk back to him. His eyes follow my movements. 

 

He still hasn't said anything as we stand staring each other down.

 

"It's you." I say as if seeing him for the first time. "It's you." I repeat.

 

"Wh-what?" He asks.

 

"You... you make me feel like this. You make me feel." A quizzical look comes over his face and he releases a sigh of relief. Although he still doesn't respond. "You... made me crawl out of the hole I drank myself into. You made me want to be a better person. You made me stand up for myself. You are so infuriating and... and... hot... and quick to jump into danger and... and passionate.

 

There's never a dull moment when you're around. And I love you for it." I blurt out as the parade starts to pass us by. I'd almost think he didn't hear me, but the face splitting grin tells me that he did. This is probably the place where the two characters of the rom com kiss and then we fade to credits, but being that we were working and there were hundreds of people watching, that's not quite how it went down. 

 

The mounted police were heading towards us leading the rest of the parade. The lead horse suddenly veered left and almost knocked John Paul over who was facing away from them. I grabbed him quickly and we both landed up in the gutter with me cracking my head on the curb. 

 

"Oh shit, Craig, are you okay?" John Paul calls through the cloud of pain I feel lumping up on the back of my head. He's running his gloved fingers through my hair before he rips one off with his teeth. I wince as he finds the tender spot. "Jesus, what did you do?" He intones quietly pulling his hand out and staring at the blood dripping from his fingers. He presses the mic button to call for help with one hand while still cradling my head with the other. The people stare at me over the barrier, but the fuzziness in my head keeps me from giving a damn who sees me bleed on the side of the road. The darkness overtakes me and I pass out cold.

 

**John Paul**

 

Shit! I sit and stare as Craig's eyes roll up into the back of his head. I'm kneeling on the freezing ground like a fucking moron. But they told me not to move him in case he hurt more than his head. I wait for what feels like an eternity before someone can get through the crowd to us. Hess was so pissed off and told me not to radio in again, and that help is on the way. All right, so I am a bit worried about Craig being passed out cold in the street due to a head injury he got from protecting me. 

 

Argh! Where is the fucking ambulance?

 

After what felt like an hour, but was probably only a few minutes, the EMS finally arrive and I hop in to go with them. I'm not letting them work on Craig without me. I get a raised eyebrow, but no other objections from the EMT on call. Craig doesn't come around in the ambulance, but manages to soak through the bandages they're trying to use to stem the flow of blood. He gets wheeled into treatment right away, which I'm hoping is due to his status as a police officer and not that his wound is life threatening. 

 

I pace up and down the hall outside waiting for some news, waiting for consciousness, waiting for anything. The nurse slips out from between the curtains and gives me a half hearted smile then quickly scurries away. For fuck's sake, what the hell is going on in there? I can't stop myself from running my fingers through my hair and puffing out great big sighs of frustration. Patience is not exactly my strong suit. 

 

Finally... finally... the on-call doctor skirts around the edge of the curtain and notices me in the hall. "Wha... are you... are you with him?" He seems startled that I should be there. 

 

"Yes. I've been waiting." I answer anxious for an update trying not to scream at him. 

 

"Of course." He smiles congenially. "Officer Dean is currently sleeping. We had to give him pain relievers and put about eight stitches in the back of his head." The doctor explains in his bedside voice. "He has also suffered a concussion and may be a bit confused when he regains consciousness."

 

I look down at Craig's hat that I didn't even realize I had been holding all this time and soon the halls are filled with men in blue as a majority of the police department congregates, asking questions about Craig's health. I guess the parade is over.

 

Mindful of the noise outside, no one seems to notice as I slip through the curtain and gasp at Craig lying in the bed. It's not that he is all beat up... because he isn't. He is beautiful. Breathtaking even as he looks so peaceful lying on the bed. He hit the back of his head, so the bandages were hidden from sight. 

 

I walk reverently to the bed brushing my hand over the back of his that's lying by his side. His hand gives a little reflexive twitch, but his eyes don't open and, oh God, I miss those big brown eyes. There's an empty chair in the confined space and I pull it next to the bed. I don't know how long I sit there waiting for Craig to wake up. The adrenalin that had been running through me has left me exhausted and I lean my forehead on the side of his bed just closing my eyes for a moment. 

 

~oOo~

 

I jerk awake knowing that something woke me. A hand rests on my shoulder. I look up to see Tommy standing beside me. "Hey." He quietly greets me.

 

I lean back and scrub at my face. "Hey."

 

"He's going to be okay." Tommy says. 

 

"I know. I just wish he would wake up." I respond mechanically.

 

"John Paul, you need to get some rest. They say he's going to sleep through the night. You also need to go down to the station and file a report, but that can wait until morning." He tells me.

 

I ignore Tommy. I'm not going anywhere until I see Craig's eyes open again. "You know, it's my fault he hit his head." Tommy quirks up an eyebrow at my statement. "It's true. I wasn't watching and he pushed me out of the way of a horse that was heading straight for me."

 

"John Paul, you can't blame yourself." Tommy states trying to placate me.

 

"I don't, really. I just wish he'd let the horse hit me. It probably wouldn't have hurt.... much." I reason.

 

Tommy snorts at that comment. "He was doing his job. Watching your back." 

 

"Yeah, but it's more than that." I admit.

 

"More than one officer protecting another?" Tommy inquires.

 

"I'm in love with him." I whisper leaning my head back down on the side of the bed.


	11. Chapter 11

**Craig**

I try to open my eyes, but the light is too bright, it hurts. My left hand is pinned to the bed, so I use my right to shield my eyes and struggle to open them again. A blast of pain tears through my head as I catch a flash of blond hair on my left side. Where am I? Why does it feel like a herd of elephants has trampled through my brain? Is that John Paul's head on my bed?

"Craig?" a soft voice calls from my right. Instinctively I turn my head and a bloom of pain blossoms up from the back of my head. 

"Shit." I swear, then "Fuck." as I grab at my head still wondering why my left hand won't move.

"Shh." the voice admonishes. 

"Tommy?" I whisper.

"Yeah." He replies with a smile in his voice. 

"What happened?" I ask him groggily.

"You whacked your head pretty good out there today." He explains quietly.

"Huh?" A voice asks from the left. I turn to see John Paul blearily wipe at his eyes and the magic weight is lifted from my hand. 

"How did it happen?" I ask flexing my left hand that is now stinging with pins and needles. 

"You need to ask McQueen here. Glad to see you're still with us, Dean. I'm just going to leave you two alone." Tommy says giving John Paul a pointed look, patting my leg and turning to leave.

"What happened?" I ask turning my attention to John Paul. Geez, he looks like crap, but his hair is all stuck up at odd angles giving him a boyish appearance. 

"You don't remember?" John Paul asks staring at me like he's never seen me before.

"If I did, would I be asking?" I retort slightly exasperated.

"Oh God, Craig." He answers tears welling up in his eyes as he sniffles and grabs at my hand.

"John Paul?" I say, completely scared now. This is not the reaction I was hoping for. He doesn't respond, just squeezes my hand and sobs with his head down on the side of the bed. "Shhh... come on, John Paul, you're scaring me." This seems to draw a response as he sits up wiping at his face with his free hand.

"Sorry." He apologizes smiling through the tears. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"What the hell is going on?" 

"You... you pulled me out of the way..." He pauses to take a deep breath. 

"Of what? Where were we?" I ask really confused. The last thing I remember is getting out of the van on the Boulevard. Everything else seems sort of hazy.

A nervous snort of laughter escapes from him. "We were walking the parade route and a horse was coming at me. A fucking horse." He says with derision. "Then you grabbed me and pulled me out of the way and cracked your head open on the curb." He explains with a slightly awed look on his face. "Your eyes." is the last cryptic thing he says. 

"Did I damage my eyes?" I ask reaching up although they feel okay, but my vision is a bit fuzzy.

"No... no!" He vehemently denies. "Your eyes are perfect. I've been waiting all night to see them again." John Paul replies with a slight smile. 

"But... What?... I don't get it." I protest not being able to process my thoughts, everything is sliding and blurring together.

"Get what, Craig?" He asks.

"Why are you so upset?" 

"Do you really have to ask?" He whispers. 

"Yeah." 

In one swift move, John Paul stands up and leans over me. "Because I love you." He says and slightly brushes his lips over mine then leans back and stares into my eyes. "I've been waiting all night for this." 

I just stare back stunned. My face must convey the utter chaos of my thoughts as I fail to respond... at all.

"What?" He asks pulling back from me.

"But you left me." I say and a worried look comes over his face. 

"What's the last thing you remember?" 

"Getting out of the van on the Boulevard." I respond. John Paul's face drops and he finally lets go of my hand. 

"Oh shit." He says sitting back down.

**John Paul**

"What's the matter?" Craig asks.

"I... give me a minute." I request bowing my head down again.

"John Paul?" He calls

Taking a deep breath, I gather myself together. I pick my head up and look at him. I mean really look at him. He's been through enough today with all that's happened. I can't rain any more shit down on him right now. 

"Get some rest, Craig. It's not important." 

"John Paul." He whines... and then yawns. 

"It's been a long day." I reply. 

"Hold my hand... please." He quietly requests, eyes closing as he struggles to stay awake. His breathing finally evens out and I take this opportunity to watch the rise and fall of his chest. I study the way his eyelashes fan over his cheek. The dark curl of hair that sweeps across his forehead and the slight twitches his body makes as he finally slips into a deep sleep. 

So he doesn't remember our talk at the parade. That shouldn't matter. We can work this out when he's well enough to handle it. I can wait. It's all I can do right now.


	12. Chapter 12

**Craig**

I stop at the entrance to the room, taking a deep breath then I slowly walk through. I don't know why I'm so nervous. I can see the Chief and the brass standing around chatting with drinks in their hands. 

There's a DJ mixing Christmas tunes. Small groups of people chatting. A lot of the staff brought their wives or significant others to the gathering. It makes me sad that I have no one to bring. Steph did make it clear that she would be more than happy to accompany me, but then Tom was running a fever and she didn't want to leave him. 

I pause at the bar ordering a Coke, no alcohol for me. I'm working the program. 

I glance around, but I don't see John Paul. Hell, I'm not even sure if he's going to be here tonight. But Tommy sees me and heads over. "Dean, good to see you up and about." He greets me.

"Thanks, Tommy." I respond. 

"What are you drinking tonight?" He asks surreptitiously indicating toward the glass I have gripped in my fist. 

"Just a Coke." I respond catching onto his little game. 

"Good." He responds. And then I spot him. John Paul comes through the door looking like sex on legs. Maybe it's the way his hair is always perfectly styled to look like bed head or the way his slacks cling to him in all the right places. Tommy notices my slight distraction and asks, "Did you talk to McQueen?" 

"What? When?" I ask him tracking John Paul's movements with my eyes.

"Oh, in the hospital. Didn't he explain what happened?" Tommy tries again.

"Oh... yeah. He told me about the horse." I say watching John Paul greet the chief and exchange pleasantries. 

"Is that all?" Tommy prods.

"Is there more?" I respond.

"Um... I guess not." Tommy answers suddenly looking really uncomfortable. "I'm just... gonna go get another drink." He beats a hasty retreat leaving me standing on my own. I strike a pose sipping my drink and deciding just how long I need to stand here to make it look good before I can head home and crawl back into bed. I finally managed to get Steph to agree to me going home. She's convinced I'm incapable of taking care of myself. It's not that I can blame her, but I am a grown man.

I can't tear my eyes away from John Paul though. There's just something about him. He's been by to visit me at Steph's this week. He's been making sure that I eat and take care of myself. I just can't put my finger on it. Since that night at the hospital when he told me he loved me and his stopping over to check up on me, I feel like something significant happened that I just can't remember. John Paul won't tell me what it is. Trust me, I've asked. 

He's wearing a light blue shirt with black slacks, a black tie and no jacket. He's joking with some of his shift members over by the bar, so I down my drink and head over there. Hey, I need a refill. Don't judge.

I walk up next to them, telling the bartender what I need. I can almost feel his eyes as they rake over me, but he continues his conversation with Young discussing a call they had been on this week together. I don't listen to the details, but there's something... 

The bartender hands me my drink interrupting my thoughts and I make my way over to the Chief making sure to bestow my best Christmas greetings to the brass and their wives who stand smiling like the Stepford Wives that they are. I get the cliqueish feeling I had in high school where I felt like there was this big inside joke I wasn't privy too. So I walk away joining some of my shift mates. Thankfully Thorpe is not here. But I can deal with Renn and Barone. They're pretty good guys.

We exchange pleasantries and chat a bit. I assure them I'll be on shift on Monday. The doctor finally cleared me to go back. 

I catch John Paul's eye as I notice him watching me. I feel like we're doing this dance. He raises his glass to me and I raise mine back. What's he doing? He's ignoring me? Or maybe he's just doing what I asked him to do all those months ago. 

I stare into his eyes and there's something niggling at the back of my brain. 

He looks away again returning his attention to Young and Dwyer. Renn bumps my shoulder, "Right, Dean?" He asks assuming I was paying attention, but I wasn't. 

"Um... right." I answer reflexively. 

"Haha, see Dean agrees." Renn continues and I tune them out again as my eyes search for John Paul again. 

Someone whinnies and snorts behind me joking about the horse incident at the parade... but... suddenly things go very still. As the party goes on around me, I begin to remember something vague... something that's there... but just out of reach...

The thump thump of the bass reminds me of the marching band... is that right? From the parade... a thought I had reverberates through my head: 

_I want to yell and scream and throw things at him for making me feel again. With a sudden stop, I realize that's what it is. He's making me feel again._

I scan the room and find John Paul looking at me curiously. 

A voice I realize is my own echoes painfully through my just healed head: 

_"It's you." I say as if seeing him for the first time. "It's you." I repeat. "You are so infuriating and... and... hot... and quick to jump into danger and... and passionate. There's never a dull moment when you're around. And I love you for it."_

And I've fallen to my knees crushed by the memory that had been missing. John Paul is crouched next to me in a heartbeat. "Craig... Craig, are you okay?" He's asking concern wrinkling his forehead. I can see other faces peering at me, but can only concentrate on his. 

"It's you." I repeat and his eyes cloud over with confusion.

"You're not making any sense. Are you okay?" He asks again. 

"I remember now." I tell him and his face brightens, the pain I've noticed over this past week clears up and he smiles broadly at me.

"Is he okay?" Someone asks John Paul.

"He'll be fine." He reassures. "Come on." He orders holding his hand out to me. I grasp it and he pulls me to my feet. He pulls my hand to lead me away, but I stop him and pull him to face me. My other hand comes up to rest on his cheek. "Craig?" He questions nervously. 

"John Paul." I respond smiling at him. "It's you." I repeat again and then lean in to brush a kiss across his lips hoping that he doesn't punch me. His free hand grips at the back of my shirt and he pulls our adjoined hands up to our chests. His lips open and our tongues slide together in a lazy dance. I stroke his cheek with my thumb. The hushed crowd watches in awed silence and I had all but forgotten they were there until the wolf whistles and catcalls start. 

John Paul pulls away. "Let's get out of here." He suggests in my ear and I nod my agreement while he leads us from the room.


	13. Chapter 13

**Craig**

 

We walk through the front door and get halfway up the stairs when Mrs. Harper sticks her head out. "Oh, I see Blondie's back." She comments teasingly.

 

"Yep." John Paul replies grinning then ducks his head as I see the blush creep across his face. 

 

"Welcome back, Blondie." She says with a wink and closes the door behind her. 

 

We walk through the door and I head for the bedroom thinking John Paul is going to follow me. When I realize he's not, I turn to see him standing unsure in the living room.

 

"What's the matter?" I ask.

 

"Is this a good idea?" He asks fear in his eyes.

 

I slowly walk back towards him. "Do you love me?" 

 

"Of course I do." He responds with a reverent whisper.

 

"Then what's the problem?" I ask.

 

"It feels weird to be here again." He admits.

 

"Oh... oh. Come on. It'll be all right." I say soothingly as I take his hand and lead him to the bedroom.

 

~oOo~

 

**John Paul**

 

“Put the hat on.” I suggest. He looks warily at me where I'm lying naked on the bed. “Trust me.” I say as he places it on his head. I suck in my breath. “Oh yeah. That’s more like it. They say clothes make the man, but in your case, it's the man that makes the clothes.” 

He just snorts his response. The blue hat resting over the dark brown of his hair as he stands naked before me. 

"How's your head?" I ask.

"It could use a little attention." He responds swinging his hips, his hard cock jutting out proudly. He's got plenty to be proud of too.

"That's not what I meant." I respond laughing. 

"Why don't you take care of it for me?" He flirtily suggests crawling on the bed to straddle my legs.

"Put the shirt on." I command.

"I don't want to get cum on my shirt." He complains, "Besides the lady at the dry cleaner always looks at me funny."

"It'll give her something to talk about. You love teasing her, anyway." I reason.

"That's true. Fine." He agrees stalking over to the closet and pulling out a uniform shirt. 

"Oh yeah, leave it open. Just like that." I encourage him. The French blue of the shirt contrasts perfectly with the olive tone of his skin. "Come here." I order pulling on the plackets of his shirt drawing him in closer. Craig leans over to place small kisses on my chest and abdomen and the hat falls off.

"You wear the hat." He says leaning over to place it on my head that's reclining on the pillow. "Perfect." He says regarding the addition to my apparel, which is basically just the hat. 

I reach up pulling him in by the shirt again kissing his full pouty lips. Craig pushes a thigh between my legs rocking slowly into my erection. I gasp at the sudden sensation. Our tongues duel in a fight for pleasure. My hands stroke up and down his back finally settling on his ass pulling him closer into me. 

Craig's fingers slide down my side across my thigh under my balls until he reaches my entrance finally breaching the ring of muscle and pushing in. My legs widen for him and I arch off the bed as his fingers drive in and out skimming past my prostate setting off fireworks in my head. I break the kiss and gasp for breath

"Craig now!" I plead and he quickly removes his fingers and I grab the lube to slick his hard cock. 

He slides his cock into me and I push back begging for every inch. "You ready." He whispers. And I nod once in response. 

Craig pulls out almost to the tip and then slams back in. "Oh God!" I practically scream.

"Oh John Paul. So tight... so beautiful." the words come dripping off of Craig's tongue as a mantra while he continually plows into me over and over.

Reaching between our sweaty bodies, I pull my hard erection in strokes matching Craig's thrusting pace. It's not long before my orgasm is pulled from me, a rippling eruption that causes me to shake and spasm.

Craig's not far behind as he cums in the condom and shakily collapses down on me. 

"I love you, you know." he says lifting his head up to look at me. 

"I love you too." I respond kissing his sweaty temple.

"How do you think they're gonna respond on Monday?" Craig asks.

"I don't know, but we'll face it together." I respond stroking a light touch down his back causing him to shiver.

 


End file.
